Sleep of an Eternal Summer
by Doctor Faustus
Summary: When Fuji has narcolepsy, and Tezuka is the only one who sees it. Oneshot. ::Tezuka/Fuji::


It was always the quiet ones who got to you in the end.

He happened to glance up from his meal, and realised that Fuji hadn't contributed to the conversation for several minutes now. The rest of their colleagues continued to eat, laughing and chatting merrily, unaware of the unnatural stillness of Fuji's hands, the quiet sound of deep breathing, pale hair obscuring the expression on a head tilted downwards.

The fine strands of hair were a little shaggy, and just a shade long, brushing past the nape of his neck. Shifting a little in his chair, he tried to pretend that he wasn't staring at Fuji, in case someone noticed.

The seconds ticked by unnaturally long.

* * *

The second time it happened, he tried to pretend that Fuji simply hadn't had enough sleep.

They were college students after all, and it must have been difficult on Fuji, to cope with both schoolwork and their part-time job. He heard stories about the fierce dedication of the students of Tokyo University of Fine Arts and Music. Apparently, dark eye circles and symptoms of malnourishment were worn as badges of honour.

Fuji's fingers twitched slightly, and he began to stir.

Tezuka tried to look away, but found himself arrested by the steady gaze of wide cerulean eyes, deep and fathomless as the sea. Fuji was paler than usual, his cheekbones too prominent, giving him a lost, childlike expression as he tried to smile, and found himself close to tears instead.

* * *

According to Fuji, it wasn't anything serious.

It happened all the time to people everywhere. His case just tended to be a little more severe. There were times when he started walking across the lecture hall, and opened his eyes to find himself walking up the staircase in his house. He rarely slept at night, a fragmented sleep breaking up further under stress and the vague fear of living.

He had been to several of Fuji's photography showcases, and had stood numbly before the enlarged prints – myriads of colour, dazzling in patterns and rich detail, all captured by a boy who saw even less of life than what most people did.

Since he had found out about the illness, the worry had been gnawing away at him even though he knew that Fuji must have been capable of taking care of himself. Nevertheless, he kept an eye on him just in case Fuji ever fell asleep unknowingly. He didn't know if he could help to cure it, but he could at least make sure that Fuji's sleep was comfortable and undisturbed. He developed a knack at giving people reproachful looks when they made too much noise, threatening to wake Fuji from an impromptu nap.

* * *

"What happens right before you collapse?" he asked one day, out of curiosity.

Fuji kept his eyes on the sky above, humming a little as he thought about the question. It was a warm evening, the last rays of sunlight warm on their skin as they headed home.

"…it's a little hard to describe. Sometimes it feels as though you're conscious, but not quite. Your body moves even though your mind isn't fully aware, and when you come back to yourself, some time has elapsed and everyone is staring."

"Hnn."

"But sometimes, it's this compulsion to sleep, this strong compulsion that drags you in, and every fibre of your body just wants to give in. Your mind can't focus on what is in front of you. Maa…I guess it's kind of scary when that happens."

"Why's that?"

"Who am I when I'm not here?"

Fuji turns toward him then and grins. He's teasing him in his usual gentle way, his eyes crinkling in their familiar fashion.

Tezuka represses the urge to sigh.

* * *

Slowly, it became a habit.

Fuji's lens snapped away, at anything and everything, as though he was afraid to lose sight of what he might not have been able to see. Life was forcibly categorised, print by print, the dangerous and the tame, the mundane and the exotic, the vivid colours of swirling hazes spilling into the dull grey streets he loved to capture.

"Sometimes I worry I can't wake up."

Tezuka never really did anything much on those expeditions. He accompanied Fuji, and let him do as he pleased, carrying the heavier equipment despite Fuji's protests. With his help, they managed to bring out some of the heavier lenses which he had always wanted to use, but neglected due to their size and weight.

"Sometimes, when I blink, I close my eyes for a second longer than necessary and it seems as though the blue, blue sky is so close to me. Just a little more…just a little more, I think, and I could touch it with my fingertips."

He couldn't explain what it was that moved him. There was an indefinable quality to the half-wistful tone of Fuji's voice, the voice that spoke in its alluring tones and left the words drifting, falling, breaking up into nothingness.

All he knew was that he didn't want it to stop. He didn't want any of this to stop.

But time persisted relentlessly, no matter how he thought about it. Day by day passed, and each new hour brought him fresh apprehension of certain inevitability. He never thought of himself as a superstitious person, but when it came to Fuji, it seemed as though fate was as unmovable as the earth. Fuji was a free spirit, a person who lived and drifted, his touch light yet piercing enough to shake him to the core, a presence that lingered intense and beautiful, merely waiting for the silken cord of the present to snap –

And then he would fall.

"Each time I close my eyes, I wonder, what if I don't wake up this time around?"

"You will."

Tezuka states abruptly, despite himself.

Fuji's eyes snapped to him uncertainly, and he finds himself repeating the truth he held inside of him.

"You will. You will live, I will make sure that you won't disappear."

Such awkward phrasing and embarrassing sentiment for someone like him. He wanted to cringe in shame when he heard the words emerge from his mouth. Yet, to his immense relief, Fuji seemed to understand. His eyes seemed a little clearer, a little sharper, as he gazed at Tezuka for a long second, before he broke into a warm smile.

At that moment, Tezuka swore that he would do anything to keep that smile from fading.

* * *

"Hello, Tezuka."

It was the first time Fuji had called him on his mobile phone. He didn't know how he knew it was him, before he picked up the phone, but he managed to answer before the phone had rung more than twice. Sitting up in bed, he ran a hand through his hair and squinted at the clock on the bedside table.

2:14 a.m.

"I can't sleep."

He blinked. What was he supposed to do? He wasn't any good at coaxing people to sleep, nor was he accustomed to chatting on the phone for that matter.

"…would you like me to tell you a story?"

Soft laughter sounded.

"I would love that."

"Well…there was once a kingdom, where a princess was born to a king and queen. The king and queen had been waiting a long time to have a child, so they were happy. One day – yes, yes, I know I'm horrible at telling stories. Do you want me to continue or not?"

"Sorry, sorry, please do go on." Fuji soothed.

"As I was saying, the princess was born, and her fairy godmothers came to visit. They blessed her with beauty and intelligence, but just as the third fairy was about to bestow her wish, an evil fairy arrived. She cursed the princess to prick her finger on a spindle and die when she turned eighteen. But the last fairy godmother managed to amend that wish, such that the princess would merely fall into a deep sleep."

"I do believe this is the longest I've ever heard you speak, Tezuka!"

"…be quiet and listen. As the princess grew up, she never saw what a spindle looked like, since her worried father had ordered that all the spindles in the kingdom be burnt. However, on her eighteenth birthday, she was lured up an old tower, where the evil fairy disguised as a crone, showed her a spindle. The princess pricked her finger on the spindle, and fell asleep instantaneously. With her under the curse, the entire kingdom fell under the spell and remained asleep as well… However, one day, a prince arrived to her rescue, fighting his way through numerous obstacles to reach the kingdom. When he found the princess, he - "

"Tezuka. I think I might, just perhaps, be in love with you."

He breathed quietly for a moment, simply digesting that abrupt declaration. To his surprise, it didn't feel half as awkward as he thought that it might have.

"I'm sorry I'm late," Tezuka answered at last.

"Mmm?"

"It took me a hundred years, but I'm here at last."

He could feel Fuji smiling over the phone.


End file.
